Peaceful Meeting
by TribalGirl
Summary: Ian's POV during the Infamous Shark Episode of In Too Deep, because I've always wanted to know what was going through his head at the time.  All his thoughts about Amy are as IC as I could make them. THIS IS THE BEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN, PLEASE READ!
1. Keep Talking

**It all started when I was doing a piece of fanart of the Infamous Shark Episode, and I was obsessing over getting Ian's face right because he has such a complex blend of emotions on it. Then I thought, "It would be interesting to know what he's thinking in that moment," and the idea for this fic was born.**

**I'm kind of worried about putting this up. I got my first flame ever last night, and now I'm basically paranoid that everyone will hate my stories. Oh well, here goes.**

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><p>"Hello... this is Ian Kabra - no, wait, don't hang up on me yet. I need to speak to Amy."<p>

There was a long pause, then -

"Wh-what do you want, Ian?" Amy's voice.

"Now, that's not much of a greeting. But I suppose I deserve it."

"You deserve worse than that."

"I know. I have done some terrible things to you. But we're in a contest. I learned from my father that the only important thing is to win. I hear his voice in my head all the time, like after a cricket match. _Ian, I don't care if you played well. Didn't you notice that your team lost? If you expect a pat on the back, you're not getting it from me!_"

Ian was talking too much, he knew. But he was nervous. Having one's slightly terrifying mother listening in on every word of a crucially important conversation tended to do that to a person.

"Tell it to your therapist." The stutter was definitely gone now. She was getting braver.

"Look, I deserve everything you're saying." He did, but Isabel thought he was lying. Best not to stay on the subject too long. "I'm not calling to gain your trust. I'm calling because I have some information."

"Tell it to someone who cares," retorted Amy. Ian looked at his mother in frustration; this was not going as planned. Isabel brought her hand down in a quick gesture. The meaning was clear: _Now_.

"Do you expect me to –"

Ian interrupted Amy in the middle of her sentence, wishing to keep this as short as possible. "It's about your parents. About their death." There. That ought to get her interested. He glanced at Isabel; she nodded encouragingly.

Silence on the other end of the line. Ian pressed on. "My mother told me everything." Not everything, but enough for this phone call. Time for the trump card. "They were murdered."

This time there wasn't silence; there was a slight sigh. Not an intentional sigh, but the type of sound that escapes a person after they've been winded by a serious blow to the stomach. As though the breath was being squeezed out of her lungs.

"Amy?" Maybe he'd been too abrupt. If she was too much in shock to hear him, then he'd have to call back, and he wasn't sure how that would go down. Unfortunately, Isabel also seemed to be aware of this fact. Her eyes had narrowed dangerously.

_What should I do?_ Ian looked at her helplessly. Amy hadn't disconnected - he could still hear her breaths coming fast and labored. It seemed cruel to do this - then again, why should he care? She was just an obstacle, just a competitor... right?

_Keep talking_. Isabel motioned with a finger.

Ian took a deep breath and kept going. "My mother wanted to talk to you about it. A temporary truce. We give you our word that nothing will happen..." Probably a complete lie. _He_ wouldn't do anything, of course - a truce was a truce - but he had a feeling that Isabel was not trying to arrange a meeting with Amy just for the sake of friendly conversation. "... if you cooperate." There. That made it probably true. "Will you come?"

"Tell me what you know." Amy's voice was shaking, but her tone was of a forced calm.

"This phone is not secure." Too right it wasn't. Not with Isabel listening in.

"What?"

"Trust me. It's not." According to his mother, anyway - Ian wasn't sure how much stock to put in that statement. "Listen, I'll meet you in an open place with lots of people - The Rocks Market at Circular Quay. Meet me in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art at 3 o'clock."

More silence. Time to get this over with. "I hope you do." Ian pressed the button and disconnected. He looked at his mother. "Do you think she'll come?"

"Of course she'll come," replied Isabel impatiently. "Information can sometimes be better than a cash bribe. She won't resist being able to find out who set the fire."

Ian nodded, shutting the phone. However, part of his mind was elsewhere. He hesitated, then began, "It seems a little... cruel, though, doesn't it?"

Isabel's eyes hardened. "What do you mean?"

Ian should have remembered that throwing caution to the winds was never a good idea around his mother, but it was too late to back out now. He continued haltingly, "I mean... she might have come anyway... I mean," he amended himself hastily, "probably would have, if I know her - "

"Indeed." The scorn was evident in Isabel's voice. "And you know her just how well? I'm beginning to have my doubts about your... _special _role in Korea, Ian. If you become _distracted_ like this - you know full well what I mean by that - then I might have to do something." She turned and strode away.

Ian took a deep breath. He had gotten lucky, he knew; his mother had simply decided not to unleash the full force of her rage. However, she'd been right, on one count at least - he was also having doubts about Korea. He knew, at least, that if he could do it over again, he'd have found some other way to get the coin back. True, it had paid off, but he'd been inexplicably left with unfamiliar - and rather inconvenient - feelings of regret, remorse, and something deeper - something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but that sent a pang through him whenever he remembered the look on Amy's face as the cave doors closed, sealing her in...

The cell phone made a small sound as it went to sleep, snapping Ian out of his trance. This was ridiculous. Obsessing over his feelings, however confusing, would get him nowhere. Especially not now, when Amy was about to have a meeting with Isabel. Transactions like that never ended well.

Things were about to get complicated.

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><p><strong>This is only the first installment, of course. Sorry if I didn't put in enough IanxAmy. I just didn't think Ian would be obsessing over Amy's impending doom that much. He's waaaay too much in denial to ever do that. But hey - that's why we all love this pairing, right?<strong>

**Now, see that little button down there? The one that says Review this Story? Time to put it to its proper use. And don't think you'll get off easily just by faving or subscribing. On the contrary, if you fave or subscribe you have a bounden duty to review. I'll want to know exactly WHAT you liked about it, and what made you add it to Story Alerts or Favorite Story. If anyone does do that. Also, PLEASE don't flame. I'm still sore from the last one. Yeah, yeah, you're probably thinking "what a wimp", but I'm a very sensitive person. No, really. I cry at jokes people think are funny.**

**Anyway. Were was I? Oh, yes. Review.**


	2. AN: No, It's Not What You Think!

**Hi, people.**

**I know what you're thinking. The dreaded A/N! Harbinger of the death of stories!**

**But really, it's not like that.**

**I just ran into a problem. See, my copy of In Too Deep was due back to the library today, so I returned it. Unfortunately, I had not finished typing up the Shark Episode. So, I'm asking a favor of you. I need someone to type up those two chapters on the boat and send them to me. **

**Of course, then the story will continue. I'm not putting this on hiatus or discontinuing it. How could I, when I keep writing it over and over in my head? But it can't go on until someone send me those two chapters, so if you'd do that, I'd be very grateful to you. ****I'll put up another A/N when I've gotten the chapters, then when I've typed up the next installment, I'll delete the two A/Ns so that people can read this story uninterrupted.**

**TribalGirl out.**


	3. Statue

**Okay, I've got one more chappie. I haven't gotten the typed-up book chapters yet, but I remembered that before I gave back the book I managed to type of the end of that chapter, you know, where Amy gets on board the boat. So here it is. My main strategy for this fic, I think, is a chapter per chapter. Anyway... enjoy.**

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><p>"Irina is late."<p>

Isabel stood in the front of the boat, her back turned, but Ian could hear the disapproval in her voice. He allowed himself a grim smile; he would not want to be in Irina's shoes when they returned.

It seemed that recently Isabel didn't trust Irina as much - if she ever trusted anyone, that is. But of late, she'd been giving Irina increasingly trivial assignments, not telling her everything... What was happening? Ian couldn't see anything Irina was doing wrong - but then again, Isabel was more observant than he was. Irina could easily have overlooked some crucial detail to something that he'd missed as well.

Silence fell again, and the boat bobbed gently in the water. Then the ferry they'd been hiding behind start to move. Quickly, Isabel returned to the controls, and the boat moved forward - slowly, so as not to make any unwanted noise, but still at a reasonable pace. Isabel maneuvered them out into the open water, hiding the fact that they'd been far too close to the ferry than safety regulations would allow. As the next ferry pulled in, she made a wide loop in the water and came up close to this one, returning to their previous position. Then silence.

Ian would have felt rather bored, but worry was beginning to nibble at the corners of his mind. What if Amy didn't show up - how would Isabel react to that? And what if she did show up? What then?

Best not to go there.

An indeterminate amount of time later, the radio on a nearby seat crackled to life. Ian sat up straighter, and Isabel turned.

"Amy is coming." Irina, definitely. "She is headed towards this dock. Be ready."

"Of course," snapped Isabel into the radio. "And Irina - when we come back, I hope for your sake you have some explanations on hand."

No reply.

Isabel started the motor, and the boat purred to life. She inched them forward until the dock was just visible around the ferry's edge. Peering forward, Ian could just make out a figure standing near the shore. Was it Amy? He couldn't be sure...

"It's her." Isabel was looking through binoculars. She snapped them shut and turned to Ian. "We're picking her up now, and I don't want to hear _anything_ from you. Don't say a word. Don't intervene. Whatever happens, you're a statue, or it will be the worse for you. Understand?"

Ian nodded. What did she think he was going to do? Sabotage whatever plan his mother had in mind? Of course not. He knew how important it was to get information, and he was not about to put it at risk now.

All other thoughts were driven from his head as Isabel gunned the motor, and the boat roared forward. The acceleration threw Ian back onto the seat and made him feel like his brain was trying to force its way out through his skull. The boat shot around the bend, and stopped inches away from the dock.

Isabel nodded at Amy. "There she is. Keep her from escaping."

Ian jumped down from the boat and onto the dock. Trying to ignore the fact that the wooden surface was pitching up and down under his feet, he halted in front of Amy, casually blocking her way to the ferry. "There you are!" he greeted her, suspecting that Isabel was thinking the same thing. Why was she late? What had taken Irina so long?

"Amy! Come aboard!" Isabel was waving from the boat.

Ian noticed Amy's muscles tense, as though to run. Quickly he slid an arm through hers, locking his elbow to create a strong grip. There. That should keep her immobilized.

He glanced quickly back at Isabel. Her face was disapproving, but she nodded. She understood what he was doing, but she didn't like it. That much was clear.

Ian directed his gaze back to Amy. He felt like he had to say something. "I'm glad you came," he murmured finally. "There's so much to say." He did have a lot to say - most of it concerning Isabel's trustworthiness - but he doubted he'd get to. And he wasn't at all sure if he was glad she'd come. But he'd learned early on that the best lies were usually founded on truth.

Isabel waved again. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"

Ian saw Amy's shoulders slump slightly, her body language defeated. Judging that it was safe to do so, he relaxed his elbow a second before she threw off his arm and climbed onto the boat.

As Amy moved past him, Ian glanced once more at Isabel. She was relaxed, carefree, and welcoming; all kindness and nothing to hide.

Ian wished he were that good at acting.

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><p><strong>Yeah, it's not much. But I like it. I won't be able to update more until I get those typed-up chapters. No, I'm not trying to guilt-trip or anything! ! ! It's just that... yeah, I kind of do need them.<strong>

**If you hadn't noticed yet, I have a new fic, one of those horribly cliched ones in which the Clue Hunters have to read the Sword Thief. Go read it if you want. But make sure to review on this one! ! ! ! ! ! !**

**By the way, there's this strategy I've been using on all of my fics since January: I never use the word _said_. Ever. I find other substitutes, like snapped, replied, asked, demanded, muttered, interrupted... Or I just don't use speech verbs at all, instead using context to show who's talking. Apparently it's a really good exercise in word variation, as well as being a lot more specific. Anyways... I am just randomly rambling. So bye, and don't forget to PRESS THAT BUTTON!**


	4. Accept It

**FINALLY! A new chapter on my favorite fic! ! ! *does victory dance* And you can read it! By the way, for those of you who didn't read my oneshot In the Morning - well, go read it. Please.**

**Thank you SO MUCH to omg-KITTENS and Cinnamoncookies98! ! ! ! I owe you so much!  
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><p>Ian reseated himself on the bench, with Amy next to him. He could feel her eyes on him, but determinedly avoided her gaze. All he wanted was to get this over with. Get their information and go back to the hotel.<p>

"Let's take a quick tour of the harbor," suggested Isabel, "and then I'll show you the prettiest cove. I'll have you back in forty-five minutes. Promise!"

Ian heard Amy start to reply, but then the boat roared to life at the same time the ferry's horn rang out. For the next few seconds, conversation was impossible. Amy had her hands over her ears, but Ian decided to just weather it. Presentation was important, and it would look weak if he couldn't take a little noise.

The boat jolted up and down as Isabel steered it across another boat's wake. Ian heard his mother laugh. "Oopsie, sorry! Let's get away from this traffic. Don't worry, Amy, I'm an expert captain."

Ian reminded himself of the fact, although it was unnerving moving at this speed. To convince himself further, he turned his head in Amy's direction. "Mother keeps a boat at our place in the Bahamas." He had to shout to make himself heard, even though she was sitting quite close to him - agreeably close, in fact. "She's raced competitively. There's no cause for concern." He hoped.

As the boat maneuvered away from the traffic, Isabel sped up, hurtling across the water at such a speed the boat tilted slightly upwards. Ian grabbed the railing and clung on tightly.

"That's more like it!" Isabel seemed perfectly relaxed. Ian had seen her steer boats at this speed before; she was always completely focused, unlike now. He wondered if this was intentional, to keep Amy disoriented and shaken up. He certainly felt that way. "Don't you love it?"

"LOVE IT!" Ian knew he hadn't convinced anyone. His grip on the railing didn't loosen as they steered across waves that he could barely see from the wind forcing his eyes shut. Finally the boat slowed into a cove bordered by a white beach. Ian noted the presence of tourists on the sand - just stick figures from this distance, but if Amy put up a loud, noticeable struggle, then they might do something, alert the police... Then again, Amy wasn't the type to put up a loud noticeable struggle. But why was he thinking all this? If Amy cooperated, there wouldn't be any trouble and she could just go home.

Isabel seated herself in front of Ian and Amy and took their hands in hers. "Now, you two," she chided. "Enough squabbling. You're here to make up."

Ian winced inwardly. The gibe was directed at him, he knew.

"I'm not here to make up with Ian." Amy's voice came out braver than Ian remembered it. Then again, she was doing that a lot lately. "I'm here because he told me my parents were murdered."

Isabel had been right. Telling Amy about her parents had been an effective strategy to get her to come to the meeting. Surprisingly, Ian didn't feel the small glow of victory that usually came in situations like this. Instead he felt the sting of a feeling that was entirely unwelcome, and very confusing.

Guilt.

"Right to the point, aren't you?" Isabel was talking again. "I admire that! I'm going to tell you some ting in confidence and hope that you will respect it. I didn't come to Australia just to collect my children."

_No, you came to take over their participation in the Clue Hunt,_ thought Ian, but kept silent.

"There is a mole in the Lucian branch. We believe this mole has been operating for some time. Thwarting us at every turn."

Ian studied Amy's face and noted how, for a fraction of a second, her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly - just the merest flicker of surprise and recognition crossing her face. Isabel did not seem to have noticed, too intent on delivering the information and getting what she came for. But Ian did, and he was fairly certain what it meant: Amy knew something. She knew about the person Isabel was talking about.

Which was impossible. Wasn't Isabel lying?

"We've wondered where they were getting information, resources. And then we realized. The Madrigals. One of our own has joined them."

"What does this have to do with me?" Amy's voice interrupted Ian's thoughts.

_Don't worry,_ he thought. _She's getting there._ Ian recognized what his mother was doing: setting things up, building towards a big reveal. The goal was to be as dramatic as possible without going overboard, making sure the information hit the target in such a way that the person would be severely shaken up. Although Amy had sounded shaken up enough when they'd spoken on the phone... Perhaps all this was slightly unnecessary.

"I believe - we believe, those of us at the highest levels - that this person, this spy, this mole, along with the Madrigals - murdered your parents."

Again Ian noticed a change in Amy's facial features: surprise, fear, anger... and something like denial. She definitely knew something. Ian wondered if he should tell Isabel, but pushed the thought aside. _Save it for later_. Right now Isabel was busy.

"How do you know?" Ian noticed Amy swallow on the words. He realized he was intently studying her face to get her exact reaction, and looked away hurriedly, remembering Isabel's directive to be a part of the background.

"The fire was deliberately set. Cleverly done. We investigated ourselves. I'm sorry to shock, Amy but you must come to terms with it. You must see what you're up against. The Madrigals are ruthless."

"Why should I believe you?" Although he was deliberately trying not to look at her, Ian heard the open hostility in her voice. Isabel was going to have a hard time.

"Because I was close to your parents, for one thing. I mourned them. When I realized that the Lucian spy was aligned with the Madrigals, I decided I had to get involved with the hunt, I called off Ian and Natalie. I want an alliance with you Dan. I will help you bring the murderer to justice."

It was cleverly done, Ian had to admit - using the idea of the murderer to coax Amy into the alliance. He prayed she'd accept - if not, this whole endeavor would have been for nothing. As much as he hated to admit it, Amy and Dan were leagues ahead in the Clue hunt. And, if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't mind an alliance with Amy. At all.

"Who is it?"

"Not only will I help you, but the full resources of the Lucians will be placed before you and your brother. Information. Strongholds. Money. We'll share the clues, and we'll win together."

_Win together?_ thought Ian. _Not likely._ He didn't like sharing victory, at best, and he knew Isabel would be even less willing. The alliance would have to be broken off at some point... Ian pushed the thought out of his mind. Betraying Amy once had been disconcerting; betraying her again would be difficult. To say the least.

"Enough about the clues." That meant she probably wasn't going to accept, then. Ian cursed inwardly. "_Who killed my parents_?"

"Irina Spasky."

Silence then. Isabel may not have told Ian who was responsible, but judging from his mother's habits and mannerisms, he had a pretty good idea who set the fire. And it wasn't Irina Spasky.

He'd been anticipating some lie, something to lead Amy off on a completely different tangent... but Irina? Irina, with whom they were in an alliance? What was his mother planning? At least this would account for Isabel's apparently growing distrust of Irina, but... why?

He risked a glance at Amy, and was rather surprised. Instead of looking angry or shocked or afraid, the primary expression on Amy's face was confusion. Extreme confusion. Why? Unless... Irina had been late. She'd taken a detour. And if she'd told Amy anything...

"My husband and I knew Irina when we were all teenagers." Isabel's voice broke into Ian's thoughts. "I watched her turn from an idealistic scholar into a cold-blooded killer. But I never dreamed she'd strike against her own relatives. The chase for the clues is a hunger for her. It's warped her. I'm sorry, Amy. This can't be easy to hear. But you should know who killed them." She paused. "If we join forces, we can defeat her."

There it was. Isabel no longer needed Irina. She'd turned against her, found her at fault. Ian had only seen it happen once before, and he still wasn't exactly sure what had become of the agent in question.

"...more than anything. The Madrigals... they are the game changers. What do we know about them? Only that they're bent on the destruction of all Cahill branches... yet nobody knows who or what they are. We suspect that the group was formed by rogue Cahills hundreds of years ago, and they are committed to the destruction of the entire family."

Rogue Cahills. Ian made a mental note. He'd heard something like that about the Madrigals, but here was confirmation.

"Surely you'd think the branches would unite against them. But for all those years, the branches couldn't form an alliance, even against a common enemy. Until now." Isabel clasped her hands, the picture of an earnest visionary. "We can make the future, Amy. We can find the thirty-nine clues and you can avenge your parents. If we work together."

Another mind tactic: giving a simple alliance symbolic importance, making Amy seem like just another shortsighted, feuding Cahill if she refused. It was all lying, of course. The alliance would have to be broken off just like any other alliance. Just like the alliance in Korea, the one that Ian still wasn't sure about...

"I don't see what you get out of this." Amy didn't seem that affected by the psychological manipulation. Then again, she'd experienced it before... Again Ian felt that most unwelcome twinge of guilt.

"Your brains. Your brother's instincts. You have to admit you're bested even my own children." Ian winced, but neither Amy nor Isabel seemed to notice. "And remember this, Amy - you could already _be_ a Lucian. Grace chose not to have allegiances. You seem most like a Lucian to me."

_Hardly,_ Ian thought. Amy and her brother hadn't used a single trace of subterfuge in the Clue hunt, which was what any sane Lucian would do. He'd mentally labeled her as an Ekat - what with her love of books and her intelligence - but it didn't quite seem to fit...

"So this could be just... coming home. One more thing we offer, the most important thing. Protection. Irina has more tricks up her sleeve, I promise you. And the Madrigals are ruthless."

Ian risked another quick look at Amy. She seemed completely dumbfounded. The decision seemed to be coming soon. Hastily he looked away, fixing his gaze in his mother's direction.

"What do you say, Amy? I hate to hit you with this all at once, but you need to get up to speed, and fast, if you want to survive."

Ian felt Amy's eyes on him, but he kept staring straight ahead. _Don't say anything._ He wasn't going to try and influence Amy's decision; his mother wanted him to stay out of it. Besides, did he want an alliance if it meant another betrayal? But if she refused...

He stiffened as he heard Amy's voice. "Dan and I can handle our own problems. So thanks, but no thanks."

Ian bit his lip, recalculating what this would mean. But Isabel persisted. "You need to be certain. I can't make this offer again."

_Accept it_, Ian urged mentally. _Please. _It would help him and Natalie get ahead in the Clue Hunt, but mostly he was worried about the consequences if she didn't take the deal. One did not say no to Isabel Kabra.

"It's my final answer."

No alliance, then. Although he hadn't really expected her to accept. Amy may have been shy and gentle, but she had her own tough, independent streak. And after the last alliance... who could blame her?

But what now? He doubted Amy would be allowed to go home with a shrug and a cheerful goodbye.

Isabel smiled, but now Ian could see an undertone of menace. He didn't like where this was going. At all. "I understand. I'll take you back." Rising from her deck chair, she walked to the railing. "But first, let's take a moment to admire this lovely cove. Australia has the most beautiful beaches in the world, don't you agree? Of course, you have to watch out for riptides and bluebottles and sharks, but what are the odds of one of them finding you? Shark attacks are actually quite rare."

Sharks.

So that was it.

Why did his palms suddenly feel clammy?

"I find sharks beautiful."

An image flashed into Ian's mind: fins above the surface, blood billowing like smoke in the water - Why the sudden surge of fear? It was only Amy...

"The great white is a killing machine that searches for food constantly."

_Don't say a word._

_"_It has one purpose in life, and it knows exactly what it is and what to do about it."

_Don't intervene._

"It can rip your arm or your leg off with one bite, but you can't blame the shark."

_Whatever happens, you're a statue..._

"And when blood foams in the water, what else can it do but keep feeding?"

_...or it will be the worse for you._

It was too much. "Mum, please - " Ian began, not knowing what he was going to say. Suggest a compromise? Ask Amy to rethink her decision? Ask _Isabel_ to rethink her decision? He need not have worried, though. Isabel just steamrollered on, as implacable as she always was in these situations, but Ian knew he was in for it later.

"Have you ever been in a shark cage? I have. I've looked into a shark's eyes and it's like looking at death itself."

An idea struck Ian then. Sharks, he'd heard it said, weren't as taken with human flesh as the media stated - in fact, they practically disliked the taste of humans. So how was Isabel... He was annoyed to find himself praying that it wouldn't work.

Then Isabel opened the storage compartment and brought out a bucket full of - that was blood. Wasn't it? It didn't look like human blood... something about the texture, or perhaps the color. The heavy smell was also a clue. Fish. The contents of that bucket, and what Isabel was now tossing in the water, was disemboweled fish.

Ian tensed involuntarily, fingers digging into the seat. He saw where Isabel was going now. Work the sharks into a frenzy on the fish blood, then throw a human in with them - how would they know the difference? _What else can it do but keep feeding?_

Isabel was rubbing hand sanitizer on hands as she turned back towards Amy and spoke in a deliberately casual tone. "All right, then. Why don't you tell me all the clues that you and your brother have gathered? Or would you rather go for a swim?"

Why was Isabel being so up front about it? She'd essentially admitted that all she wanted was for Amy to hand over the Clues. Then Ian realized, with a cold trickle of dread, that it didn't matter. At the end of the day, there were only two possible outcomes to this situation: Either Amy would hand over all the clues, and Isabel would allow her to go home unscathed.

Or she'd be dead.

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><p><strong>Okay, that's done. I think it's only this chapter that I realized what a huge challenge it is to get Ian IC - at least where Amy is concerned. I mean, you have to balance his ruthless Lucian nature with his major crush on Amy. Factor in his loyalty to Isabel and the fact that he doesn't actually know he likes Amy that much - well, it's hard. To say the least. So please, if your review doesn't contain anything else, at least tell me if you think he's IC! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! ! ! ! ! ! And please go read In the Morning... and review...<strong>

**One thing I specifically want to know, on the subject of ICness: I did this thing that you'll find several times throughout the fic, where Ian's thinking about Amy and indirectly compliments her, even though he doesn't realize it... is that IC? I thought it was.**

**It was also pretty fun finding out the mind games Isabel was playing with Amy so I could have Ian comment on them. Actually, I didn't really look for them, I was just like, "Hey, that sounds sort of like some psychological manipulation. Ian would notice that, right?"**

**Anyway. REVIEW I BEG OF YOU! ! ! ! ! ! My most popular fic has triple-digit reviews and it's pretty cliched, it's not even my best fic. THIS is my best fic. It should have reviews to match! So REVIEW! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !  
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**Updates won't come for, say, the next week and a half, because I'm going to be on vacation without Internet access. Sorry, guys. But hey, at least there's this chapter, right?  
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	5. The Inexplicable Fear

**Yay, new chapter! I'm posting this from Fra-a-ance, where the keyboards go azertyuiop and you have to press the shift key for all the numbers. It's confusing, but I'm getting the hang of it.**

**Again, thanks soooo luch to omg-KITTENS and Cinnamoncookies98!**

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><p>"Are you out of your mind?"<p>

Those were the first words out of Amy's mouth. And it rather surprised Ian. No begging, no pleading. Just an incredulous assessment of Isabel's sanity. Of course, he could hear the undercurrent of fear in her words - _are you out of your mind, why are you doing this _- but it wasn't obvious.

"You don't need a suit." Isabel didn't answer the question; she didn't need to. The answer was obvious. She was in full Lucian mode: cold, calculating, and in complete control of her mental faculties. "It won't matter in a few seconds anyway. Or minutes. The sharks might be feeding on the fish parts, but they'll get to you eventually." She nudged the bucket with her foot, and a couple drops of blood slopped over the rim. Ian saw them splatter on the deck like red-brown flowers, and his field of vision seemed to shrink until he saw only the bloodstains. "And I have plenty more. So. What do you say? Swim or talk?"

_Talk_, Ian urged mentally. _Talk. Tell everything._ He didn't know why, but somehow obtaining the information and getting this over with seemed so much more important now.

"I'm not jumping in that water." Amy crossed over to the other side of the boat, as far away from the sharks as possible, and Ian wondered how she did it; the boat's motion suddenly seemed a lot more violent. At least, his stomach felt strange, and the deck seemed even more unsteady under his feet... But the water was calm.

"Well, if you won't do it yourself, I can toss you in," Isabel replied. "Heave ho and all that. Martial arts training. Not a problem. Ian can help."

Of course. The test. To see whether he was as committed as he said. Ian tried to picture himself doing it, tried to imagine going up to Amy, using the railing as a fulcrum to tip her over the edge, watching her fall to the brown-tinted water where the sharks were feeding - "Mum?" He hated himself for the way his voice shook on that one word.

His mother turned around, her face furious. Too late Ian remembered: never call her Mum when she's angry, or around enemies. "Not Mum! How many times must I remind you? It makes me sound old!" She turned her back to Ian again and didn't spare him a second glance. "So, maybe my lazy _coward_ of a son won't give me a hand. But I don't need one."

There it was. She'd thrown Ian the test and he'd failed. Already he'd interrupted her - and now he'd failed to obey what was essentially an order. What was wrong with him? He wasn't always this... afraid.

Afraid. Was that it?

But it was more than fear, it was panic. Now that he'd named it, it was unmistakable. He could hear his pulse echoing in his ears and his palms were clammy. Why was he afraid? It made no sense. He was on the boat, perfectly safe from the sharks. At any second, Amy would cave in and spill the beans. It was all going according to plan. So why was he so scared?

In the time it had taken for Ian's mind to formulate the thought, Isabel had cornered Amy, pressed against the rail. "Little Amy and little Dan. Who knew they would find a way to travel the world?"

Guiltily Ian remembered how, on the plane to Japan, he and Natalie given Amy and Dan's au pair all their loose change - a considerable amount - in exchange for the antidote to the poison. But before that - Paris, Venice - how had they gotten anywhere?

"Paris, Moscow, Venice, Seoul, Karachi. You sent the Lucian stronghold into a frenzy."

The entire Clue hunt had done that, Ian thought. But Karachi? He was fairly certain that none of the teams had ever been to Karachi. Through the fear in Amy's eyes, he caught the flicker of puzzlement and knew she'd had the same thought.

"Who helped you in Russia? How many Clues have you found?" Isabel's questions snapped out like darts.

_Who helped you in Russia..._ Ian had to admit, he would never have thought of that question - but now that he'd heard, it seemed obvious. Amy and Dan had made it through a Lucian black circle, a feat which was considered nearly impossible. The only way they could have done that was if... if another Lucian had been helping them.

A member of the Lucian branch had turned traitor. Ian knew the information ought to be sending his mind whirling, exploring all avenues of possibility, but for some reason, that wasn't happening. The inexplicable fear was too immediate.

"Throw some more fish in the water."

It took Ian a moment to realize the words were directed at him. To his great annoyance, he found himself unable to obey.

"NOW!"

Ian forced himself into action. Rising up, he went over to the bucket, fighting the bobbing motion of the boat, and reached a hand in. Immediately, cold liquid brushed his fingertips, and he recoiled. The idea of blood not being warm was strange. _In cold blood_. It seemed like some sort of strange joke.

Steeling himself, he reached once more, and this time his fingers closed around a slippery piece of fish. He dropped it over the railing and watched it fall down, landing with a splash. There was a glimpse of it bobbing white in the water, then a shark's teeth snapped shut around it, leaving only a hint of yellowish-brown, the color of diluted blood. Ian swallowed.

He noticed his mother watching him impatiently, and quickly picked up another piece of fish. A head this time. Cold blank eyes stared at him; the mouth gaping open stupidly. Ian sent it spinning into the water before he could look more, and picked up another chunk. Blood ran down his arm, staining his sleeve. He grimaced; that might not come out.

Amy's face was perfectly visible on the edge of his vision; eyes wide in terror, complexion white as a sheet. It unsettled him. Every time he tried to focus on something else, the something resolved itself into that panicked face: rust-colored bloodstains became reddish-brown hair; green-blue water became jade green eyes. There was no escaping it.

"Hurry up!" The command was like a whip crack. Ian quickly threw the piece into the water and picked up the next one, but before he could drop it in, he noticed something that gave him pause.

A flash of color in the sky. Orange, red, swooping triangle - a paraglider. It was only a brief glimpse, but he knew it was that - and it was close. Very close. But Isabel hadn't seen it.

He had to warn her. He tried to, but the words lodged in his throat. Something was stopping him. With a shock, he realized that he wasn't sure if he wanted her to know. But why...

And then a shadow slid over the sun and there was no need to say anything, because the paraglider was directly above them. Isabel looked up a moment after Ian did. It was the Tomas boy, Hamilton Holt, yelling "Come on!"

Amy moved faster than Ian had ever seen her react - except maybe during the affair of the exploding harpsichord in Venice, the time she'd inadvertently saved his life. She vaulted onto the bench, stood up, and grabbed Hamilton's ankles in a fraction of a second. For a moment, Ian thought she would be too heavy, but the paraglider had all the momentum. It yanked her off the boat and into the air, and Hamilton let out an elated yell.

With an inarticulate cry of rage, Isabel lunged forward, but the paraglider jerked to the left. Ian noticed Amy focus on the bucket, and he leapt aside just in time for her to deliver a savage kick that knocked over the bucket and sent its contents spilling all over the deck. Ian slipped and managed to land on the seat, but Isabel landed heavily on the ground, fish blood soaking into her clothes. Ian winced. His mother had been angry before; now she would be furious.

Ian heard Hamilton yell "Way to go, Amy!" but a gust of wind blew them straight into the path of Isabel, who seized Amy's ankle. The paraglider tilted to one side.

It occurred to Ian that he ought to be doing something to help, but the next moment he wondered what the use would be. And anyway, the unsteady terrain of the deack had now become doubly treacherous, slippery as it was. It would be best just to stay put. And the fear was still gnawing at him, for reasons he didn't know.

Then Amy kicked loose of Isabel's grip and the paraglider was off, skimming over the water. Ian noticed a shark right beneath Amy, and she appeared to have noticed it too, judging by the nervous way in which she stammered, "H-Hamilton..."

"Just hang on!" They were getting farther away now, but Ian could see the spray of water that went up when Amy's sneaker hit the surface, and the way the shark immediately turned at the disturbance. The fear spiked up into Ian's throat just as Amy yelled "HAMILTON!" again.

It hit Ian then: he wasn't afraid for himself, or the information, or for his team in the Clue hunt. He was afraid for _Amy_.

And the last time he'd felt like that...

The memory of What Happened Outside The Cave At Pukhansan, which Ian normally kept at the back of his mind, burst to the forefront again. Angrily he shoved it away, in time to hear Hamilton's faint voice, echoing across the water, "Don't worry! This baby has a motor!"

And Amy's panicked reply. "Then USE IT!"

Then the paraglider rose up into the air and soared above the water, flying into the distance. Both Ian and Isabel watched it go until it disappeared.

As soon as the orange triangle vanished into the distance, Isabel screamed. She slammed her fist into the captain's chair, then again, then delivered a vicious kick that dented the base. "That IDIOT BOY! We were bested by Tomas! Defeated by the stupidest Cahill branch! This is all Irina's fault. If she'd been faster delivering Amy, then that numbskull Eisenhower Holt wouldn't have had time to mobilize his family!"

Ian was accustomed to this sort of thing. Whenever failure occurred - not that it happened often - Isabel would go on a rampage of blame, pointing fingers at anyone she thought was responsible. But her accusation of Irina reminded him of something.

"Mum - " he began, then remembered too late. "Mother - When you told Amy Irina set the fire - did you see her face? She looked confused. Extremely so. And the way Irina took a detour... I can't help thinking she told Amy something. Something that contradicts what you told her."

Isabel nodded slowly. "Yes..." she replied. "Yes, I think so. All the more reason to get rid of her. Argh! Why did I ever trust that woman...?"

Suddenly she rounded on Ian, and her eyes were blazing. "And you!" She began to pace the length of the boat, her feet splashing in the fish blood. "I told you not to intervene, and you went and spoke out of turn. You wouldn't help me throw Amy in and you hesitated when I told you to throw more fish in the water. You didn't do _anything_ when the paraglider came in, and when it flew off... I saw that expression on your face. It was relief."

Relief? Really? Ian tried to remember, and it was true that as the paraglider lifted Amy out of Isabel's reach, he'd felt a surge of - yes, that had been relief. But why?

"I should have seen it before now," Isabel continued. "I should have given you a stronger role - something that would force you to take action. As it is, I know why you were so hesitant on this mission, so _weak_."

_Good_, thought Ian. _Because I don't. I have no idea what's wrong with me_.

Isabel stopped pacing and turned to face him, and her next words came with the weight of a death sentence.

"You have feelings for the girl."

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><p><strong>Okay, so that's done. One more chapter and then this fic is finished! *sniff* I'm going to miss it. This is my total favorite fic. And next chapter... next chapter pours on as much IanxAmy as I can manage to keep IC. I might even need a beta for it. Well, since this is my best fic, maybe I should get a beta to go over all the previous chapters as well. Okay, it's official: ANYONE WANT TO BETA? COME AND VOLUNTEER!<strong>

**Anyway... for those of you who are wondering, Ian's memory of What Happened Outside the Cave At Pukhansan does refer to Page 123. I wasn't actually planning to put it in there, but the bit where Ian realizes it's Amy he's worried about sounded so much like Page 123, I thought, "What the heck, might as well drop in a reference." Because Page 123 is just that awesome.**

**I GOT A DEVIANTART ACCOUNT! WHOOP WHOOP! The reason I'm telling you that is because I'm currently working on a piece of fanart that shows this scene: Amy being scared, Isabel being evil, and Ian being indecisive, with Hamilton's paraglider in the background. I'm not working on it now because I'm on vacation (again) and don't have access to my beloved Photoshop, but I'll get started on it once I'm home. By the way, if anyone's interested, it's www(.)tribal-girl(.)deviantart(.)com. Yes, Tribal-Girl has a hyphen. (TribalGirl without the hyphen was already taken.)**

**Speaking of vacation: I'm in France and the computer doesn't speak English, so there are red lines under everything I'm typing. This makes it hard to pick up on misspellings, so if I spelled something wrong, just ignore it, okay?**


	6. Four Words

**Sorry, guys, but this isn't the chapter you were expecting. It isn't what I was expecting either, which is disappointing. I mean, I've been planning this chapter since May. It's supposed to be the crowning jewel in this fic, my masterpiece. But it just falls flat.**

**However, the beta services of SqueakyDolphin6 did help. Thanks! To Evanescence456 - I know you said you wanted to beta, but this has been sitting around for too long and I wanted to get it over with. Sorry.**

**Anyway, read it, and PLEASE REVIEW.**

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><p><em>You have feelings for the girl.<em>

That simple statement set Ian's mind whirling. It wasn't true. Of course it wasn't. It couldn't be. And yet it somehow explained things, like the way he hadn't been able to force himself into action when Hamilton arrived. And before that, long before that, those strange feelings of guilt and regret that had plagued him after he'd left Amy for dead under Pukhansan.

And yet it couldn't be true. It couldn't. If it was, then that would be catastrophic.

Ian's thoughts were spinning around dizzyingly fast, and he couldn't get a grip on them. So he settled for the only word he could muster up.

"_What?_"

"You heard me." Isabel stared at Ian for a moment, livid, then lunged forward and dealt him a furious blow that knocked him backwards on the seat and left a bloody handprint on his face. "You have feelings for the girl," Isabel repeated. "I had my suspicions before, but now... this is far more serious than I thought."

Ian didn't reply. Even if he'd been able to decide what he was thinking, the blow had dazed him. His face was on fire; gingerly he put a hand to his cheekbone and his fingertips came away red. It took him a moment to realize that the blood wasn't his, wasn't even human. Finally he found his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about." The derisive sneer was absent from Isabel's cosmetically altered face, but evident in her voice. "I should never have let you go ahead with that assignment in Korea... you seem to have started to believe it yourself."

Again that unbidden memory of What Happened Outside The Cave At Pukhansan rose to the forefront of Ian's mind: Amy's face, speechless, eyes wide, right after he'd kissed her... _No! _It had been a ploy, a trick. He'd been faking it to gain her trust, and now that that episode was over, it was long since time to return to reality.

"It explains so much," Isabel went on. "Russia, for instance. You didn't give Irina an official kill order - "

"I told her to get Amy and Dan out of Russia." It was extremely dangerous to defend oneself against Isabel, but Ian felt he had to. "She knew what it I meant."

"Then why not just say it?"

Looking back on it, Ian remembered the moment when he'd made the call. He'd been about to tell Irina, flat out, to kill Amy and Dan, but Amy's face had appeared in his mind - just for the briefest instant - and for some unknown reason, he'd changed his wording. But he couldn't tell Isabel this, so he gave her the excuse he'd given himself: "The line wasn't secure. Someone might have been listening." It sounded feeble even to his ears.

"Of course." Isabel's voice didn't exactly drip with sarcasm, but the few drops with which it was infused were even more cutting. "I would never have believed it of you, Ian. To have feelings for one of our enemies! And not just any enemy - one of Grace's grandchildren, branch unknown, possibly the biggest variable in the entire Clue hunt..."

"Mother!" This was just too unfair. "Why would I ever feel anything towards that girl? She's an orphan, penniless - "

" - worthless, clueless, brainless, insignificant, and a coward. Not to mention, in a week or so, she'll probably be lifeless as well. She isn't even worth your notice!"

Ian had to clamp his teeth together to stop the unexpected retorts that rose in his throat against Isabel's stream of insults. Amy wasn't clueless - she and her brother seemed to have all the leads so far. She wasn't at all brainless, as he'd noticed in Korea; quite intelligent in fact. She wasn't insignificant, being Grace's grandchild; Isabel had said so herself. No coward either, as her bravery just now had attested. And she wasn't going to die anytime soon. Not with the resourcefulness she and her brother had shown.

Ian didn't say any of this out loud, though. That was what Isabel wanted. She was baiting him into it. So he simply repeated, "I don't feel anything for her."

"Oh, you do. I can only imagine. Sympathy?"

The stirrings of pity he'd felt upon closing the doors at Pukhansan...

"Curiosity?"

...the way he kept finding her so intriguing...

"Admiration?"

...how did she and her brother manage to be in the lead, with such limited resources?

"Perhaps even - " Isabel's voice was acid; caustic, sarcastic, wounding. Her scalpel voice. " - _love_?"

_Love..._

_A tactic, a stepping stone... lovely..._

No. It was ridiculous. "I don't have feelings for her." His voice shook slightly.

"You seem so certain." Still the scalpel voice. "Well, if you insist, then we have nothing more to say." Isabel turned away, ending the discussion, and fired up the motor again.

The boat roared to life, and Ian realized that, now that the adrenaline had faded, his stomach was not happy with the waves. Boats. He didn't like boats. A large yacht in the relatively calm canals of Venice - that was fine. But a tiny speedboat in the open water? As the boat shot forward, Ian felt his stomach clench, and he had to struggle not to be sick.

Love...

No.

Isabel seemed determined to punish Ian for his wavering loyalties. The boat slammed into waves, heaved up and down, and shot around corners at an unnecessary speed. Ian's stomach felt like it was trying to force its way up through his throat, and unless he wasn't careful, that was going to happen soon.

The boat finally jolted to a dead halt next to the dock, throwing Ian forward on his seat. Isabel stepped off gracefully; Ian followed, stumbling twice.

The car was waiting for them at the end of the dock, its motor idling. Natalie was sitting in the back seat. As Ian opened the door, she took one look at him and demanded, "What happened to you?" She indicated her chartreuse purse lying in her lap. "You're _this_ color."

"Seasick," he managed, sitting down.

Natalie edged away from him. "Well, don't throw up on me. This sweater is new." She leaned towards their mother. "How did it go? Did you get the - " She seemed to guess the answer from the look on Isabel's face, as well as the fish blood covering her clothes, and fell silent.

The chauffer didn't seem to notice the blood covering Isabel - then again, he'd been paid a considerable amount not to notice anything. Instead he just started the car. Ian swallowed convulsively, and thought about lowering the window. No... too much of a security risk.

Without turning around, Isabel announced, "Ian had a few problems today." Her voice was still the diamond hard scalpel.

Natalie glanced at Ian. "What kind of problems?"

"Girl problems."

The sarcasm hit home. "Mother, I already told you - " Ian fell silent under his mother's warning look.

Natalie nodded as though she understood exactly what Isabel was talking about. Good God. Did everyone in Ian's family know his thoughts better than he did?

The nausea was starting to recede, but the confused thoughts remained. If he had feelings for Amy - if he'd been _in love_ with her - wouldn't he have known it by now?

Four words slowly drifted to the forefront of his mind. _I love Amy Cahill._ A simple statement, yet so utterly bewildering. It was alien, incomprehensible. Those four words did not belong together, simple as that.

And yet, somehow, they fit together perfectly.

No. Ludicrous, foolish, impossible. Ian looked down at his fingers and realized that they were still stained brown with dried blood from when Isabel had slapped him. He scraped at the stains with a fingernail, but they wouldn't yield, so he returned his gaze to the window. The ocean was zipping by, a blur of blue-green, with his reflection in the glass staring back at him. His thoughts turned again to the boat, and for an instant, the reflection of amber eyes in the window gave way to another pair: jade green, wide open in terror...

Ian leaned his head against the window - not the safest thing to do, but the area had already been secured, and the glass was bulletproof. He suddenly felt very tired. All he wanted to do now was to get back to the hotel and rest for a while. Isabel's insults towards Amy ran through his mind again - _worthless, clueless, brainless, insignificant, a coward _- and he held on to them, trying to convince himself that they were true, to distract himself from the other words sneaking in at the edge of his thoughts: _intelligent, resourceful, gentle, caring, trusting, quick-witted..._ And again that word: _lovely... the moment before he kissed her... _Had that been the moment when everything spiraled out of his control? Now Isabel and Natalie seemed to know something about him that he didn't know about himself. But they were wrong. Weren't they? They had to be wrong. _He_ had to be wrong.

It was no use. He could argue with himself all he wanted, but those four perplexing words were still planted in his mind, and nothing he could do would get them out.

The car stopped outside the hotel. Isabel got out without a word, leaving stains of fish blood in the seat, and Ian and Natalie followed. The silence remained unbroken as they entered and rode the elevator to their floor.

Finally Isabel spoke as she opened the door to their suite. "We have to deal with Irina. Go change and get cleaned up - " she indicated the bloodstains on his sleeve and fingertips - "and when I come out, I'll expect you to act like the Lucian you've been trained to be." She strode inside her own room, leaving Ian and Natalie behind.

Natalie grinned. "I don't think Irina is going to have a very good afternoon." The fact obviously gave her cause for happiness. None of them liked Irina, with her silent, grim presence. "Then again, you probably won't either."

Ian nodded briefly. That, he knew, was true.

Natalie studied him critically. "What's gotten into you? Ever since Korea..."

"Look, whatever you and Mum think about me, it's wrong."

Natalie shook her head in annoyance. "Maybe you're the one who's wrong." She turned to go into her room, then turned. "Mum was right, by the way - you need a wash and a change of clothes. You have blood on your sleeve, your hands, your face and your shoes, and I can practically smell the fish from here."

Ian could smell it too. It wasn't him, it was the lingering odor from Isabel's soaked clothes. But he wasn't about to defend himself here - she might overhear him. Instead he pulled open the door to his room and shut the door.

His thoughts were still in turmoil, and he was starting to be seriously worried. He didn't usually have doubts like this - for so long, and in such intensity.

_Focus_, he told himself. _Think about the Clue hunt_. He ran over all the items they had that might be important, all locations that pointed to possible clues, all the weaknesses they could exploit in the other teams.. being careful not to think of one team in particular... _Forget Amy. Forget all that idiocy. You're a Kabra and all that ridiculous sentiment is For Losers Only._

Slowly, Ian brought his unruly thoughts under control. But there was still an itch in the back of his mind, and he was afraid to touch it for fear that it would burst open and all the doubts would come flooding back.

An hour later, Isabel came to retrieve him. "Are you focused now?" There was an evident threat in her voice.

"Yes," Ian replied. "I'm fine."

Was it the truth? He had no idea.

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><p><strong>I know. Hastily ended. Very, very hastily ended. But no matter which point I looked at, I couldn't think of anything to do, so I just went with my best shot.<strong>

**By the way, today in Social Studies we were talking about Egyptian mythology and of course it was all I could do to keep from laughing the entire time. Especially when this one boy said "Hello, I am Khufu the great pharaoh." And when Mr. Miller was talking about Anubis... I lost it and started silently cracking up. Then when we were talking about the Rosetta Stone... you get the idea.**

**Anyway... please review. This is your last chance. If you had me on alert all this time and never reviewed, do so now. Tell me what you liked and what you didn't like, because this is the last chapter and I want your opinion.**


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